


Translucent heart

by AnnsGhost



Category: Dreamwastaken, GeorgeNotFound - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF, mcyt
Genre: Ghosts, M/M, Paranormal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-24
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-14 10:15:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29665746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnsGhost/pseuds/AnnsGhost
Summary: A very short story about love and ghosts. Heavy DNF focused.Tw: death, violance, gore, mental health, swearing
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Kudos: 18





	Translucent heart

Clay looks out the window. School´s boring, as always. Clay is not bad at maths, he´s not bad in any subject for that matter. It´s just so damn boring. The school bell rings. Only one hour until they can go home. “Hey Clay” Nicks voice punches Clay back into reality. “You know that old building? By that little tree line on the field behind school?”. Clay nods as an answer. He knows what Nick was implying. Nice to know his friend got his back when he was bored like that. “Better than drinking” Clay says. Nick grins in excitement. “A lot of people say it´s haunted” he tells, Clay scoffs. “Come on now. You know that’s bullshit” he dismisses. “You dare to try summon a spirit?” Nick challenges his friend with a teasing tone. “Bet” Clay counters.  
-  
They went on the same day. It´s Friday, so they won´t get in trouble if they´d sleep longer on Saturday. They´re adults, school´s over in a year, they both don´t care about trouble. Which is why they agreed to meet in front of the school. Clay has to wait 10 long minutes until Nick finally drives up in his motorbike. He parks it next to Clays car. Clay gets out his seat while Nick gets his backpack. They head out to the field and to the abandoned building. It´s darker than expected this night. The moon is full, but it´s cloudy. They don´t want to hurt their ankles before even arriving, so Nick uses his flashlight to illuminate the field in front.  
-  
The air in the building is dusty. It´s cold, but not as cold as outside. The walls, the windows, the stairs, almost everything still looks like it´s not that old. Clay is disappointed. They go up to the first floor and pick a room. It´s full of debris, like most rooms. Suddenly, an uneasy feeling hits Clay alongside stale air. It doesn´t smell bad, he just assumes it´s how old buildings smell.  
-  
Nick puts down his backpack, putting two pillows down for them to sit on. “Why do you think this place is haunted? It´s like very calm here and not old at all” Clay complains as Nick pulls out a Ouija-board. “Remember when there was news about a kidnapped boy all over the media a few months back?” Nick answers without looking up from his bag, he rummages for something. Clay feels a wave of nausea. “We´re not in the building they found him, are we? That´s not fucking funny, Nick!” he says angry. “I don´t mean this in a funny way!” Nick justifies himself. “We…are in that building?” Clay asks again. His friend looks at him confused. “I thought you knew. Didn´t you read the news back then?” he asks back. Clay shakes his head.  
-  
He pulls out his phone. He´s got an internet connection, so he googles. The more he reads, the worse he feels. A boy, just a bit older them himself, went missing one day 3 months prior. He didn´t come back from his parttime job at a cafe. His family didn´t contact police until the next day. Too late by then. They found the corpse in an abandoned building, tied up, gagged, and bled out. Autopsy later revealed that the killer had stabbed his back and neck over 10 times, but not killing him instantly. He left the boy for another seven long minutes in agony until he passed out and eventually died of blood loss. The killer shot himself once police had caught onto him. He just chose his victim by chance. That scum of a human being got to choose an easy way out.  
-  
Clays chest tightens. How cruel. That boy couldn´t even get the justice he deserved. Looks like he graduated from the same school they are in right now as well. Did they ever meet? “George Henry Davidson” Clay reads out loud. Nick looks up. “That´s his name, yes” he confirms while standing up.  
-  
He looks around, walks over to a pile of debris, where another broken Ouija-board is laying. Nick searches around that pile. “What are you doing?” Clay asks, slightly annoyed. “The planchette” he answers quickly. “The what?” Clay asks again, Nick groans. He actually reaches down, picking up a planchette, the thing you move on top the board to get a spirits answers. He assumes it´s from the board other student must have left here. It´s not wooden or plastic, like most Clay had seen before, it´s made of glass. Cloudy, but still transparent glass, with a brown plastic eye in it´s middle. It looks pretty, but still scary. “That thing is decor I think, that eye is blocking the view” Nick realizes. “Not like there are actual ghosts to talk to” Clay replies silently, his friend hears and ignores him.  
-  
They sit down on the pillows. Nick lights a small candle. They both put their hands on the planchette and wait. “George are you here?” Nick calls out in the room. Nothing happens. “Do you want to talk to us?” he asks further. Nothing happens. Clay wants to push the planchette himself to scare Nick, but it won´t move. Disappointing. “Are there any ghosts that want to talk to us?” Nick asks again. Nothing happens. Nick screams suddenly, spinning around. “Something breathed on my neck!” he sounds honestly distressed, but Clay laughs it off. “I´m not scared” he smiles. Nick looks at him offended. “I´m not faking!” he insists. “Then it was the wind” Clay says, Nick grunts embarrassed.  
-  
He puts is hands on the planchette again. “George was that you?” he calls out into the room, this time not as loud as before. The planchette actually glides over the boards surface. Slowly, very slowly. Clay thinks he´s imagining it at first, but then it stops on “Yes”.  
-  
Nicks eyes almost glow with enthusiasm. “Are you the boy that died here?” Nick pushes. Clay wanted to say that that was disrespectful, but he stops himself just in time. Nick is just messing with him. Getting Clay to acknowledge any thoughts of the paranormal was his goal. Clay wasn´t going to give him that satisfaction. The planchette doesn´t move. “Is that a yes?” Nick whispers to his friend, who just shrugs. “Since when are you here?” Nick asks, the planchette moves to the 1, quite a distance, and then it stops. “One. One month, Clay!” Nicks voice is higher than usual through excitement. Clay giggles silently.  
-  
“You know what? Show us you´re real” Clay suddenly says. Nick looks at him surprised. “I know you´re moving it, Nick” he smiles. Nick breaths in to reply, but he´s interrupted. The room goes dark. The candle went out. Clay lights it again. “That was the wind. We´ve clarified that already” he says dry. Nick looks around paranoid. “It´s scary” he laughs nervously. Clay would lie if he´d say it wasn´t. A piece of debris slides across the floor. Both boys freeze, they barely dare to breath as Nick shines around the room with his flashlight. Nick stands up. He slowly goes outside the room and a bit down the hallway. Clay stands up a little later.  
-  
He hasn´t reached the door yet as he hears running footsteps echoing through the rather small house. They grow quieter. Nick just left him. Clay is paralyzed, his breath shallow. His heart beats so loud, his hears hurt. He slowly approaches the door. He turns the corner.  
-  
The end of the hall is dark. There´s something close to a human shape on the end, at least it looks like one. “Nick?” he whispers out. No answer. Something exhales next to his ear, he spins around. He´s alone. He looks back to the hall again. The shape is gone. He panics, he wants to run but their belongings are still in that room behind him. Clay hurries back, he stuffs all the things in Nicks bag. His soul almost leaves his body as the door slams shut behind him. He gasps and turns around, not expecting to see anything, but there is something there.  
-  
It´s not really a shape, not a shadow either. It looks like a heat distortion. Clay stands up, so silently he´d swear the world got muted. The shape moves, it twitches. Clay doesn´t care anymore, he´s scared. “Okay, you´re real. Just let me go” he stumbles hysteric. The shape stops. Clay blinks.  
-  
There´s a transparent face floating in front of the door. The eyes are unnaturally wide open, one looks almost white, the other dark. Clay stumbles back. The face grows a translucent body. He recognizes it´s pale clothes from an old picture of the dead boy in the cafe, his uniform. “Are you…” Clay shivers. “George?” he breathes. The dead face suddenly changes in a surprised emotion.  
-  
“You can see me?” the figures mouth hardly moves, the voice sounds like it´s coming from within Clays head. He doesn´t manage to nod. The thing by the door fades out of existence. A blink later, dead eyes stare right into Clay. He shrieks. “Sorry” the figure mouths, backing away from Clay.  
-  
Clay kicks toward the thing, but he just hits air, but it´s gone. He scoops up the bag and makes a run for it.  
-  
Nick stands on the field, shining his flashlight right into Clays face. It´s painfully blinding. “Clay, I thought you died, dude” he gasps. Clay just shoves the beg in Nicks arms. “You´re an asshole” Clay complains. “Nick suddenly laughs. “You screamed inside” he jokes. Clay hits his friend’s shoulder. “You scared me” he tells him, patting dust of his own coat. “Let´s get home already.”  
\---  
Clay blinks into the sunlight shining in his face. He sits up and yawns. Beams of the morning sun warm his skin, he just can´t shake off his sleepiness. His gaze wanders onto his coat he wore yesterday. What a dumb idea that was. Clay needs to put his coat to the clothes rack in the hall before he forgets. He stands up and reaches for it. He pauses. Is there something in the pocket? Clay gropes inside. His hand flinches back as he touches something cold.  
-  
The glass planchette drops on the floor. Clay didn´t take it with him. He´s pretty sure he kicked it away when he- Clay pauses. Did he dream about that ghost? Surely. Ghosts aren´t real, and if there are some, they probably wouldn´t just look like normal humans nor act like them. That´s just a picture horror films created in peoples minds.  
-  
Clay turns to walk out. His peripheral vision barely catches movement on his bed. He feels like he´s got a heart attack for a hot second. He pushes himself against the wall of his room, facing his bed. The translucent outline of a person sits there, on his messy sheets.  
-  
“Careful with that” a barely audible voice is heard. This time, not in his head, it sounds more like it´s coming from far away. The figure points to the planchette. Clay still recovers from the scare. He picks the thing up and holds it out to the figure. He can see it´s face again. The boy smiles. “I can´t touch anything.”  
-  
Clay coughs embarrassed. He puts it down next to him on the bed. He searches for words, but only stammers gibberish. The boy patiently waits until Clay´s quiet again. “I´m sorry that I attached myself to you” he whispers. He what now? Clay looks at him perplexed. “I couldn´t bare staying in that house any longer” the boys voice suddenly sounds frail, awfully humane. “My last hour. Stuck forever. I can hear my own screams” the ghost continues.  
-  
Clays hart aces. He can feel oppressing grief rising in the room. All his pity is for nothing, his hand glides through the boy. “George?” he asks as soft as his voice allows him, but the ghost disappears. It´s silent again. Clay is still a bit disturbed by the boys appearance. He´s wearing the uniform, he already saw that. But he just notices that the fabric on his back is shredded. The skin on his back and his neck looks like its covered in wounds as well. Sickening to think about it.  
-  
He really tries to concentrate on his homework. Ever so often his eyes meet the planchette laying on the side of his desk. He´s alone at home. Secretly Clay hopes that he would see a moving shadow, a heat distortion or something getting moved around when he eats lunch, a snack, dinner or on bathroom breaks. But nothing seems to happen for the entirety of the weekend.  
\---  
Clay has school until late afternoon on Monday. He´s exhausted when he finally enters his home again. It´s quiet. It´s cozy. He barely notices the cold breeze hitting his face right after closing the door. He hangs his coat up, puts his shoes in place.  
-  
“You´ve been gone for so long” the emotionless voice behind him scare away is exhaustion. “For gods sake!” he spins around. “This needs to stop” he demands. The ghost fades out of sight. Clay looks around him, everything´s empty. Even if he wasn´t that harsh, regret fills him. That boy he just shouted at has died a miserable death. A death filled with fear, violence, and pain. And probably a lot of loud noice. “George…?” he pleads. “I didn´t mean to scare you.”  
-  
The boy gently fades into view next to him. “I thought you left for good” George whispers. He sneaks after Clay who went to get something to eat in the kitchen. He puts some frozen food in the microwave. “Are you scared that I´m leaving you?” he questions. The ghost floats around him. “You´re the first person I can talk to” he reminds him gloomily. Clay sees that the boy passes his hand through his body a few times. He knows it´s not his imagination that every time it feels like a cold wind strikes him.  
-  
George lies-or rather floats- on the back of Clays couch. Clay is leaned back, he´s tired again, but for some reason he can´t bring himself to go into his room. The tv is on, but he doesn´t really care about what´s playing. He knows George brushes though him from time to time. Sometimes he gets shivers.  
-  
“Clay?” Georges voice is in his head. “Hm?” he doesn´t want to ask George why he knows his name. He assumes Nick said it back at the abandoned house, but Clay doesn´t want to remind him about that place. Clay turns his head to look at the ghosts transparent eyes. “Clay can you tell me about you” the boy asks. Clay´s confused. “About me?” he assures, the ghost nods.  
-  
Clay talks way into the night. Talking about himself quickly changes into talking about memories. The more they talk, the more down Clay begins to feel. George and he understand each other so well. George used to be interested in so many similar things. It hurts to know they probably would´ve been best friends if they´ve met before his death.  
\---  
Clay fell asleep on the couch. He hurries to get to school in time. He comes home by midday this Tuesday. He hears George saying hello, but he won´t show up, not even in the evening. Clay sits there, playing games in his laptop alone, in silence. Where do ghosts go? Is he here right now, just invisible?  
\---  
Wednesday morning. Clay wakes up early, he gets ready for school again. He´s kind of glad most classes are cancelled for the day. He puts on his shoes and takes his coat as a familiar voice fills the hallway again. “How long will you be gone for?” George sounds sad. “Not long” Clay assures, and he leaves.  
-  
It´s not even close to lunchtime when Clay´s already back. George floats around him happily, while Clay cleans up a bit. How strange. The bond George and he already have after 5 days was nowhere close to any of his other friendships. Maybe because George only has him.  
-  
The sun shines into Clays room. The sunset is deep orange, his room is filled with its light. Clay sits on his chair, he spins a bit, occasionally watching his shadow move along. Suddenly there is a second shadow. He looks around him. George must be here. Clay can´t see him, but he feels a cold breeze brush through his hair. He smiles to let George know he noticed him. The second shadow disappears. Ghosts are hard to understand.  
\---  
On Thursday, Clay has a long day at school. Afternoon classes. His mind is constantly distracted by the thought of coming home to George. He must be sad right now. Alone. Clay feels bad. He could´ve just said he was sick for the day. He should´ve. Joking around with Nick is a welcoming way of passing the time. Nick teases Clay with his daydreaming, begging him to tell what girl he met. Clays throat gets dry. No way. There was nothing to feel for George, was it? Clay thinks about it intensively for the last few hours. Then he can finally go home.  
-  
Clay lays on his bed. He´s not as warm as usual, because George lays next to him. Clay really wants to feel Georges warmth near him, seeing his heartbeat, hearing his body move. But George is quiet, and he´s cold. And that won´t change, no matter how much Clay has to think about it. His heart aches. Do ghosts still feel emotions? He doesn´t want to ask. George seems both emotionless and alive at the same time.  
\---  
Clay drinks his morning coffee. He sits down in the big chair in his living room. The soft sun creates shadows on the wall again. He can see George approaching. He materializes. “Don´t you have school`” the ghost asks. Clay shakes his head smiling. “I´m taking a day off” he answers. George floats around aimlessly again, Clay pats on the empty space on the chair, but George decides on sitting on the armrest instead. He can touch not living objects at will, Clay sometimes forgets that he´s dead foe a few seconds.  
-  
George watches Clay again. For just a moment he feels something, but it´s gone before he can get a hold of it. He wants to feel George. He wants to hear him breathe. Unknowingly Clay reaches for Georges face, George moves toward him. A moment, Clay whishes would´ve happened 4 months ago. A moment Clay wants to happen so bad. But when their faces should have collided, Clays lips only meet cold air. His heart bursts. Clay moves his head away in regret. George is quiet, as always.  
-  
At some point Clay recognizes Georges sadness as well. The first attempt to talk to his ghost only leads to George retreating. Clay doesn´t eat anything at lunch. He lays in his bed, moving around restless and with a, aching heart.  
-  
Shortly before sunset. Clay picks up Georges planchette, and leaves the house. George floats aside him silently, he knows the other people around can´t see him. Clays destination is the cemetery. They wander around. To George it seems without reason, until Clay stops in front of a gravestone. George Henry Davidson. Somehow, George seems to grow even quieter. He kneels on the small field of flowers on the bottom, if he could, he´d cry. Clays chest tightens again. He looks away, he finds himself staring at the forest nearby. It´s a beautiful forest, Clay used to play there as a kid, but only on the part nearest to the city, because there was a cliff further up. Clay pauses. “Let´s take a walk, George” he mutters as quietly as he can, as to not attract any attention from the other people visiting their loved ones.  
-  
It´s a small hiking trail uphill. The trees are big and dark, soft moss grows all over the place. Once in a while they spot a bright red toadstool. George likes them. The wind picks up as they reach a clearing. It´s the platform on the cliff. The railings are old and rotten, parts fully missing already.  
-  
Clay holds the planchette firmly in one of his hands. He presses it against his chest. Georges notices Clays movements. “Clay?” his voice is shocked, even a bit shaky. A bright sunset starts. Clay feels warm drops of tears slowly making their way down his cheeks. They burn. He sands by the railing, only holding onto it with one hand. He turns to Georges transparent presence. The amount of emotion in Clays eyes, his face and body throw him off. Clays body cramps painfully.  
-  
“George” Clay sounds gentle, compared to the many emotions he feels at the moment. “Do you believe in soulmates?”. George is stunned. “I do, you know. I believe…” Clay sniffs. He takes a very big breath. “I believe we´ll be reborn, George” Clay similes painfully, but sincere. George reaches to grab his face, but he just glides through Clay again.  
-  
“We´ll wander this word again. Next time, we´ll be lovers. I promise” Clay exhales shaking. He shifts weight backwards. He falls. He hears his name being called, far, far away. He holds Georges planchette to his body. The world around his is so fast, yet so slow. It´s unbearably loud and welcoming silent. He closes his eyes, He doesn´t feel the impact.  
\-------  
“Did you hear about the forest behind the old cemetery?”  
“What about it?”  
“Hikers say they hear voices and laughing in the trees. Some even claim they have seen two boys.”  
“Stop, you´re scaring me.”  
“The stories are true! There was a suicide in that forest once. And a murder in a nearby building. I think there definitely are ghosts haunting this forest!”

**Author's Note:**

> I speedran this idea. I just wanted to finish this as soon as I could. Ty for reading!  
> Side note: I´m unsing made up versions of their charas writing this, not them irl.


End file.
